Charles POV

“Power doesn’t fade; it migrates to the one bold enough to claim it.”

The refinery’s basement hums with low mechanical rhythm, a sound halfway between a heartbeat and a death rattle.

Rows of black servers blink in synchronization, each light a pulse of data the veins of a new empire being born.

Sweat clings to my neck despite the cold air. Beneath the odor of oil and metal, I smell heat, static, and inevitability.

This place, this moment—it feels like destiny resurrected ...